When Doves Cry
by Whelmed
Summary: Prompt: Dreams. In the aftermath of losing her father and helping to rejoin the worlds, Zatanna finds herself having dreams that aren't dreams. But she's not alone.


******TITLE:** When Doves Cry**  
****RATING:** PG-13/T**  
****CHARACTERS:** Zatanna & Klarion  
**PROMPT:** _Dreams  
_******SUMMARY:** In the aftermath of losing her father and helping to rejoin the worlds, Zatanna finds herself having dreams that aren't dreams. But she's not alone.

**ADDITIONAL NOTES:** _BabyMagic_ (Zatanna/Klarion) sort of fascinates me in a strange, almost twisted kind of way. So while I usually gravitate towards _Chalant_ (Zatanna/Dick) or _Secrets_ (Zatanna/Artemis)...I wanted to give it a try at least once.

* * *

-o-o-o-

* * *

She knew she was dreaming.

That was what first tipped her off. Something wasn't right; even a sorceress' subconscious was not supposed to be this aware. Suspicious, perhaps even cautious, but still lost in the fantastical realm between reality and sleep. Yet Zatanna not only had full memories of drifting off in her new bedroom, back at Mount Justice...she knew exactly where she was.

It was the same realm she had visited while possessed by the Helmet. A mental limbo that allowed her soul to exist while another took over. Except she was only supposed to be dreaming. Fate already had her father. He had no reason to come back for her now. And if he had, he would have certainly made his presence known to her. No, this was definitely a dream. Or would have been, had she not been so aware.

"Hello?"

There was no echo. Nothing to echo off of. No walls or ceiling. Only space, far as the mental eye could see and beyond. Her eyes scanned over the nothingness with less fear than curiosity. She was safe in her own mind. Probably. But that didn't change that something must have brought her here. Or someone. The question was: who?

A high-pitched cackle erupted from somewhere beyond the abyss. Zatanna darted her head about, trying to find the source. There wasn't one.

"Who's there?" No response. "Show yourself!"

"And why would I do a foolish little thing like that?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, recognizing that insane terror almost immediately: "Klarion."

"Well, now you've gone and just spoiled the surprise!" The Lord of Chaos visualized a few feet in front of her, arms folded and sporting a childish pout. He averted his gaze before their eyes could properly meet.

Zatanna fell into an instate defensive stance, bracing herself for the oncoming attack.

"Cool yourself, little baby," He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Looking suddenly bored. "I'm not here to fight. Well, not just yet."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

Klarion seemed to find the question highly amusing, and he gave an uproarious laugh for a moment before answering. "Ah-ah! Wrong." A finger rose to the air, before coming down to poke her in the forehead. "We're in your subconscious. Not mine."

"Fine. Then get out." She shrugged him off.

"Mmm...no!"

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled at his arrogance. Her body seemed to move of its own accord as she clenched her fists together, arm raised instinctively. "_**EZYLARAP**_!"

Nothing happened.

For his part, Klarion looked unimpressed. "_Tsk_. Like I said. Baby magic." His mirrored her stance with an expression of indifference. "This is how you restrain somebody." Flicked one hand upward, murmuring a spell of his own.

Zatanna's arms and legs froze, pinning together at her sides. She could still feel them, but that only added to the discomfort as an invisible rope wrapped around her. Binding her at the chest and ankles. Tightly. Breathing wasn't so much an issue (yet) as the increasing pressure on her petite frame; the more she struggled, the tighter it got, until she finally cried out in pain.

Only then did he release her.

She dropped to her knees, hair falling over her face as she gasped for air.

"See? Even in your own subconscious, I'm far more powerful than you could ever hope to be." His boots clicked against the hard surface beneath them as he circled her like a vulture. "Just give it up already. Save us both the time."

Her breathing slowed until it was once more inaudible, but she kept her head lowered. So he wouldn't be able to see the look of determination on her face. Let him think she had resigned herself. That she had unwillingly fallen at his feet. That he had anysemblance of power over her at all.

All the more a surprise when she shot up for a physical attack, one fist swinging wildly at his cheek.

But he was quicker than she, catching the blow with a single hand. His grip shifted to her wrist, twisting her whole body around until he had her arm behind her back, pressed tightly against him. At that angle, it took less than a fraction of his strength to keep her restrained. The more she struggled, the more he squeezed.

Even then, she refused to give him the satisfaction this time. Her teeth gritted together in pain, but no sounds came out other than the occasional hiss.

His chin lightly rested against her shoulder, in direct contrast to the force he was otherwise exerting, as he leaned in to murmur in her ear: "That's no way to treat a guest. You should be nicer to me."

"Why?" She managed, despite the arm wrapped around her upper chest making the words difficult to get out. "What is it you want from me?"

"Why?" He repeated. "It's simple. I want to play." Insanity seeped out of every word. "You might be boring now...but I can sense there's more within you than even you realize. You just need somebody to teach you the rules."

"Never...pegged you for...a rules person." Her heart was pounding in her chest from the adrenaline. The uncertainty of his plan. If one could even call it that.

"Everyone else's, no. But mine? I've been known to make a few exceptions. And you, little baby, could be my new favorite one."

She couldn't take it anymore. "You're hurting me." It came out as more of a whimper than she intended it to.

Klarion gave a small frown, then stared down at where his fingers were still digging into the flesh of her arm. He shrugged. Roughly, he pushed her off as if she had been the one inconveniencing him. Zatanna stumbled forward, clutching at her wrist in the process. Once she regained her balance, she spun around to face him.

"Give me one good reason why I should listen to a single word you say. What could I possibly get out of any of this?"

"I'll give you two!" The self-proclaimed Lord was far too pleased with himself. Confident. He knew he had her. "One, you'd learn more power than even your weakling of a father could ever dream of." A pause to smirk at his own wordplay. "And two, you'd have the privilege of amusing me."

The distance between them was only a few steps; Klarion closed the gap in a matter of seconds, one chilling finger reaching up to trail down the side of her jawline.

"And I do so love being _amused_."

Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, unable to move. As if he had cast a spell over her once more. Only, this time, it wasn't magic. It was Klarion himself.

_"...tanna..."_

An echo. Somewhere beyond her subconscious.

Robin.

"Tsk." Klarion didn't bother trying to hide his annoyance at being interupted. "Little Birdy's calling you. Oh, poo." He turned his head upward, glaring at the unseen. "What stupid timing. Now you gotta go and wake up."

_"...tanna, can you hear me...?"_

"Ah, well. Cest la vie." He went from angry to indifferent in a split second, shrugging his shoulders. "I'd tell you to sleep on it, but...well..."

The room was already beginning to spin as Zatanna felt her mind being pulled back.

"See you in your dreams, little baby."

She closed her eyes to avoid the oncoming wave of vertigo.

-

When she opened them again, she was in her room. The one at Mount Justice.

A very unhappy Robin was hovering over her, both hands on her shoulders; M'gann stood off to one side, looking both worried and helpless.

"Robin? M'gann?" Her voice was heavy with sleep as she struggled to sit up. Robin moved back just enough to give her the space to do so, but no more. "What's wrong?"

"You've been shouting in your sleep for nearly an hour." The look on his face told her there was more to it than that.

She turned to M'gann for further elaboration.

"I-I couldn't wake you." The young Martian was close to tears. Hesitant to even approach. "It was like you were under some sort of trance. Not even my telepathy could get through."

"What happened?" Robin wanted to know.

Her mouth opened, as if to reply...but the words failed her. Instead, her lips pressed firmly together, and she looked away. How could she even begin to describe it? She didn't know what had happened. Not exactly. It had been a dream. Except not a dream. A nightmare, really.

"Zatanna?"

She looked back at the sound of her name. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong with your arm?"

This earned him a strange look at first, until she remembered. Gasping inaudibly, her eyes flickered down to find a very distinct-looking mark spanning over her entire write wrist. The color of a nasty bruise just beginning to form. A bruise in the shape of a hand.

Right where Klarion had gripped her.


End file.
